Venice
by Ambrosia Rush
Summary: She called him Blue Eyes, and he liked that. She had never asked for his name. Never asked anything of his life and he was grateful, it meant he never had to lie to her.


She called him Blue Eyes, and he liked that. She had never asked for his name. Never asked anything of his life and he was grateful, _it meant he never had to lie to her_.

He could never think of her as pretty- it seemed to bland a word. She was tall, curvaceous, blonde hair that waved down to top of her denim shorts, viridian eyes that were always lit up with _life_. She had a smile that could stop a man in his tracks and a laugh that seemed to emit from her very soul. He called her Venice, since she had a little booth on Venice beach and it was the only place they ever met.

**The first time he walked past she had smiled at him and he had faltered in his step- he didn't stop thought he just kept moving. **

_The next day when he walked past she flipped feverishly through her sketchbook and turned it to him. It was a sketch of him in charcoal, the only colour she had added were his eyes creating an image so striking he stopped and against better judgement he approached her booth. She smiled, "I wanted to see how close I could get by memory alone- you walked by and I seen you for but a second. Pretty close," she had stated. _

"_Too close," he had growled back. _

_She studied him ripped the page rolled it up and stuck it in a tube before handing it to him. "For you Blue Eyes, since it seems I have offended you." _

**The third day she was painting, her easel set up in the sand, bright colours bold strokes- abstract. **

"**It's wonderful Venice." **

**She had turned those viridian eyes on him and it took a minute but she gave a little grin, "you aren't getting something for free again Blue Eyes." **

"**Wasn't asking," he had responded. **

"**Good."**

_The fourth day he went by late in the afternoon and he found her packing her things up for the day, she was having difficulty with her easel and he grabbed it to help. She'd been startled but they loaded her jeep in silence. "I love the ocean," she said pulling the back door down. She started walking toward it taking her flip flops off as she walked. She turned back to him, "you coming Blue Eyes? I bet it's been a while since you've had sand between your toes." _

**A week went by when he had been on assignment and he had been nervous to see her after such a time. Fearful that she would start asking questions and the dance of lies would begin. "Hey Venice," he had said standing in front of her booth as she sketched on a sheet of blank paper. **

**She looked up pushing back the curtains of blonde hair, "Blue Eyes," she had greeted before retuning to her sketch, he took a seat next to her but couldn't see what it was that she was working on, her long hair blocking him out. He knew how she was when she was sketching lost in her own little world. She pulled back studied the outcome before turning the book so he could see. **

**Dew dusted flowers were as delicate as lace upon the page. "Beautiful," he commented. **

**She smiled closing the book and starting to pack up for the night before turning to him, "coffee or tea?" It was the most personal thing she had asked of him. **

"**Coffee," he'd responded. **

"**You help me load this, I'll buy." **

"_Venice?" _

"_Mhmm?" _

"_How long have you been painting for?" He'd asked, despite his own rules about wanting to keep their companionship as impersonal as possible, he supposed the question was within their carefully danced around boundaries. _

"_Since before I could say 'paint brush,'" She smiled at him, opened her mouth like she was going to elaborate but shut it so quick he heard her teeth knock together. She looked back to her painting adding a few more strokes to the canvas. "Was that you're clever and tactful way of asking how old I am?" _

**She wasn't in her usual spot on that particular Sunday, but it didn't mean she wasn't on the beach. He took his shoes off and carried them in hand. There were musicians playing many on acoustic guitars, some beating their hands against drums, the beat primal and quick. **

**Amidst them danced Venice, her long locks wild and free whipping around as she twirled and danced her long skirt billowing out with the motion, she was freedom and beauty and life. **

_After a particularly hard case he had hoped to see her, but her booth was packed, her car was gone. _

"**You look like hell Blue Eyes," she had greeted next, her lips pursed in concentration as she curved a wire around a bead. **

"**You weren't here last night."**

"**Yes I was, till seven like I always am," she looked up at him with wide, innocent viridian orbs. **

"**I wanted to see you." **

**Anger flashed upon her face but it was gone in a second and it left him wondering if he had seen it at all. **

"**Well now you have," she set the wired bead down with hundreds of it's brethren. "We've been dancing a while," she looked at him, "have you forgotten the steps?" **

**He was a taken back. He knew he'd been dancing, avoiding. He hadn't been entirely sure she had been, if it had just been her personality or not. He hadn't known that she knew he was dancing. **

"**Perhaps you should go practice, I don't want you stepping on my feet," she lectured turning her attention back to stringing the wired beads together and ignored him completely. **

_He felt like he was being watched. He didn't like it one bit. "Venice," he greeted quietly. _

"_Blue Eyes," she flashed her dazzling smile and realized she was going to pretend their last conversation hadn't happened. She looked to his hands, "coffee." _

_He handed her one of the mugs, "sorry I stepped on your toes." _

_She took off the lid and blew in it, before taking a sip, her eyes never leaving his. "I have no idea what you're talking about." _

**He needed to move from Venice Beach. He'd make up some excuse- but... someone was watching him and it was leaving him feeling vulnerable. **

"**Blue Eyes," she grabbed his arm as he'd been walking past, her hand ran down to his and she turned it so it was palm up she put something cold in it and folded his fingers overtop. "Thank you," she kissed his cheek and took off down the street. **

**His eyes followed her then went to his palm, he opened his hand and found the wired beads all bold blue wired and wrapped together in an intricate, strong, manly design. He looked back to where she had disappeared and had a feeling that it had been a goodbye. **

_He'd been shot. _

_He should have moved earlier, his gut was never wrong. _

_Once out of the hospital he waited on the beach where she usually set up her booth. _

_He waited there everyday for a week. _

_**She never came back.**_


End file.
